Undaunted Spirit

by Jane Peart

  “Don’t patronize me, Wade.”

  He gave a soft, low laugh. “Patronize? I wouldn’t do that, Mindy. I think you’re adorable . . . especially when you’re defending your rights.”

  “You’re doing it now. Thinking you can soften me up with all these compliments. I know what you really like in a woman—someone compliant, soft-spoken, submissive—”

  “Just a minute, young lady. What I was going to say, that is if you’d give me half a chance—” He came around to her side of the desk, “—is that while your methods may be admirable, your indignation justified, I just question your telling off the men of this town the way you did.” He put his hand on her arm. “ To quote my dear old grandmother, ‘You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.’”

  Mindy shook off his hand, “Well, far be it from me to contradict your grandmother.”

  Wade laughed. “You are adorable when your dander’s up.” He pulled her close, wrapped his arms tightly around her so she couldn’t move. Finding her struggle futile, she relaxed, leaned against his chest, her heart thumping. With one hand he smoothed back her hair. Then, with the other hand on the back of her neck, he tipped her chin up so she had to look at him and in a low coaxing voice asked, “Did you miss me?”

  All her anger melted away. She had missed him. More than she wanted to admit to herself. More than she would ever tell him.

  Chapter 23

  With Wade’s return Mindy was determined not to be swept away again. She knew how dangerously close she had come to flinging away everything she valued. She recognized Wade was her temptation, and she was determined to resist him, unless his own attitude changed. Which was possible. Mindy noticed that since he’d come back there was something different about him.

  He seemed more thoughtful, less sarcastic, gentler. She dared to hope that, perhaps, he might even want more than a temporary fling. He seemed to have a new respect for her work, which she found heartening. Though he remained an enigma, their companionship had subtly changed. She didn’t allow her imagination to take flight, but tried to enjoy the moment, the time they spent together, without dreaming of the future.

  One thing Mindy had missed since coming to Coarse Gold was having a woman friend. In Coarse Gold, she was unique. Even the schoolteacher was male. She longed for someone in whom she could confide, could share her intimate feminine feelings. Most of the women in the community had followed their miner husbands here and were fully occupied with making a home for them and having babies. There was no one who could understand the stress and worries and problems Mindy knew as a single, working woman.

  That is why she was elated the day Elyse Sinclair arrived in town. That day, as the stage from Sacramento pulled in, Mindy was just coming out of the general store after securing the ad for next week’s edition. Like everyone else in town the arrival of the stage was always the highlight of the day. Curious folks always gathered to see who got off and to guess their reason for coming.

  When Mindy saw a tall, thin woman get off, she paused. The first thing she noticed about her was her traveling outfit. She wore a belted tan jacket of serviceable cotton over a skirt that barely reached the ankles of sturdy boots. A soft-brimmed felt hat shadowed her face so that Mindy couldn’t determine her age or see her expression. Mindy watched the woman engage the stage driver in directions for lowering her belongings from where they were lashed on top. These turned out to be a tripod and two large, bulky leather bags. Then the woman turned and pulled out another heavy leather bag approximately the same size from the interior.

  As she slung it by its wide strap over her shoulder, she caught Mindy staring at her and immediately smiled and waved, “Hello there.”

  Such open friendliness was a surprise. Mindy crossed over preparing to introduce herself. The other woman extended her hand and gave Mindy’s a firm shake. “I’m Elyse Sinclair.” Her eyes were as clear and candid as a child’s, and her smile revealed a beautiful set of teeth. She pulled a small card out of her pocket and handed it to Mindy. “E. SINCLAIR, PHOTOGRAPHER: Artistic Pictures to Cherish of Loved Ones, Children, Groups. All Occasions. Weddings, a Specialty.”

  “Welcome to Coarse Gold. I’m Mindy McClaren, editor of the Roaring River Gazette.”

  “A lady newspaper editor? That’s almost as rare as a woman photographer—”

  Mindy looked at several more boxes and bags being piled around Elyse by the stagehand. Elyse followed the direction of Mindy’s gaze.

  “Yes, it takes a great deal of equipment. That’s why I have to find a place big enough to store all this and, if I’m lucky, a place to develop my negatives.” She paused. “As the editor of the town newspaper, you must have a wealth of information. Could you suggest where I could find rooms to rent and some place I could work?”

  Mindy thought for a minute. Byron’s house had been left to her along with the paper. After Lawrence Day had packed the editor’s personal belongings he thought his mother might want, Mindy had simply closed the place up. She hadn’t received any further instructions of what to do with the rest of the contents of the cottage. Maybe, Elyse Sinclair would want to rent it? With just a moment’s hesitation, Mindy suggested this.

  Elyse was enthusiastic. “That sounds perfect. Could you show it to me? That way I can haul my stuff right over there instead of having to move it twice.”

  As they walked the short distance to Byron’s cottage, Elyse told Mindy she had a commission from a Geographic Society interested in photographs of the west. “They want a picture story of how the towns—once just a conglomeration of slapped-together mining shacks—are now developing, how communities are forming, what the people and life out here are like now.” She gave Mindy an appraising glance. “From the look of things, it is farther advanced than most of the small towns back east. If you don’t mind my asking, how are you accepted—I mean, as a woman running a newspaper?”

  “Depends on who you ask, I guess,” Mindy laughed.

  They reached Byron’s small house, and Mindy took out a ring of keys, found the right one, and unlocked the door. Elyse was thrilled with the neat little house and wanted to take it immediately. Mindy had not even thought how much rent she should ask, but that did not seem to matter to Elyse.

  “This is marvelous,” Elyse exclaimed as she walked through. “Could I use one of the rooms as a dark room?” She darted an anxious look at Mindy, “There’d be chemicals and developing fluids. Smell awful but relatively harmless if you know what you’re doing.”

  “Well,” Mindy said slowly. “I have a better idea. There’s a shed behind the newspaper building you could use for that. That way you wouldn’t have to breathe the stuff when you’re here.”

  “Wonderful,” Elyse clapped her hands. “You’re a genius, Miss McClaren.” She put her head to one side and gave Mindy a speculative look. “It is miss isn’t it?”

  Mindy blushed, thinking of her former fantasies about Wade, but answered, “Yes, it is miss, but please call me Mindy.”

  Elyse’s smile lighted her eyes, which made her plain face almost attractive. “Good. I think we’re going to be great friends, Mindy.”

  That happened sooner than Mindy could have imagined. After the first meeting, they found each other congenial companions. Within a short time, they recognized similar traits in each other that naturally drew them closer.

  Until Elyse came, Mindy hadn’t fully realized just how lonely she was or how much she had missed having a woman to talk to. Elyse was six years older than Mindy and had already made several important decisions about her life, including the decision never to marry and have children. This came out one evening when they were sharing their supper.

  “I don’t see any way to do that and be true to myself. Once I discovered photography, I knew it was going to be my life’s work. It is so absorbing, requires so much concentration, so much dedication to really succeed, it wouldn’t be fair to a man to give him half a wife. Marriage, I believe, is something that takes your whole devotion. And childre
n—well, they would be neglected if they had a mother whose main interest was elsewhere.”

  “Was that a difficult decision?” Mindy asked, thinking it could be a decision she might one day have to make. Had Elyse ever had a romantic attraction to someone? Had she given it up to pursue her career? At Mindy’s question something passed over Elyse’s face momentarily, leaving it pensive. Regret? Sadness? Memories of a relinquished romance?

  “Only difficult insofar as you never quite know if it was the right decision, not knowing what you might be missing, what you might have been able to handle given the right man, the right situation . . . but . . . no, in the end, it was pretty easy. And I’m a great believer in living in the present, not looking back.”

  Their friendship developed rapidly, and their times together fell into a pleasant routine. After both had finished their day’s work, they would meet either in Mindy’s parlor or at Byron’s old cottage. There they would share the events of the day or make plans. More often than not, their conversations took a decidedly philosophical turn. Marriage was a subject that seemed to hold special interest for discussion. At least for Mindy.

  One day, as the fire in the little potbelly stove crackled, Elyse smiled ruefully. “I’m not a gambler,” she said, “and marriage seems to me the biggest game of chance imaginable.” She took a sip from her mug of cocoa. “My sister, for instance. I can still see her on her wedding day, stars in her eyes, happiness radiating from her expression.” Elyse shook her head and bit her lower lip as if thinking of something with great sadness.

  Mindy was curious to hear the rest of the story. “What happened? Wasn’t she happy?”

  “Happy? Ten years later, with seven children, I’m not sure. How can anyone on the outside really know about a marriage but the two people involved.” She paused. “I’m just saying what I’ve observed. If she isn’t happy, it’s not Steven’s fault. He’s a good man, good provider, good father, I’m sure. It’s simply that too many people go into marriage believing that a person is going to fulfill all their expectations, make all their dreams come true. But that’s too heavy a burden for anyone to bear.”

  “What should marriage be then?”

  Elyse took another sip of cocoa before replying. “I don’t know if it can be anything different than what it is now. But I should think the only way two people can live together happily is with respect for who the other person is. Who they really are, not who they think they should be.”

  Mindy was quiet. She thought of all the ways she wished Wade would change. Was that too much to expect? Could she live with someone she felt she didn’t understand, someone who never explained himself. Wade liked complete freedom, to come and go and do whatever he wanted with no questions asked. That was no basis for a lasting, loving relationship much less a marriage.

  Suddenly, Mindy felt the need to confide her ambivalence about Wade. The other young woman looked interested but cautious.

  “Never having met the gentleman, it’d be hard for me to give you advice. I just know from my own experience that it’s a rare man who can share his wife with her work. I don’t know why. Women certainly are able to support a man’s, whatever it is, and follow him wherever he goes, make a home in whatever barren land that happens to take him. I know. I’ve seen it. I’ve photographed it!”

  Mindy took a long breath and confessed, “We’ve never talked about the future, Wade and I. When I’m with him everything seems to be—I don’t know—so special, so exciting that I don’t think of anything else.” She paused. “But then he’s . . . well, sort of mysterious. He comes and goes. He doesn’t like to be asked questions or say where or when . . .” She winced, then made a comic face. “And you can imagine what that does to a newspaper reporter! He always tells me to stop interviewing him.”

  “He sounds like someone with a dark past.” Elyse raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh, everyone out here has some kind of past—something they’re trying to forget, or is too painful to remember. Coarse Gold is full of men who’ve burned their bridges behind them.”

  Mindy remembered Byron Karr. And she hadn’t learned much more about him from his nephew either.

  “What about the handsome lawman I see hovering around you everywhere? Now he’s my idea of a real hero straight out of True West magazine,” Elyse teased. “He’s obviously head over heels in love with you.”

  “Oh, Taylor,” Mindy dismissed the suggestion. “Taylor is the proverbial open book. Plain and solid.”

  “So it’s mystery and the unknown that fascinates you.” Elyse lifted her eyebrows again. “Then my advice is that you better stay single.”

  Elyse’s comment hit close to the mark. Mindy knew that it was Wade’s mysterious aura that intrigued her. She was mindful of the problems in “loving not wisely but too well.” Was that the narrow precipice she was walking with Wade? Were her feelings teetering close to the edge, where any minute she could plunge into the depths?

  She had tried to tell herself Wade Carrigan was too vain, too self-absorbed, too indulgent of his own pleasures to ever commit himself. Physical attraction was one thing, but love? Was he capable of true, enduring love of the kind Mindy wanted?

  As little as he told her about himself, sometimes Mindy thought she saw a look of melancholy in his eyes, as if there were unrealized dreams, unfulfilled promise or regrets. She found it hard to think about a future with Wade or even to pray that he would love her the way she wanted him to. What Elyse had said about her had the ring of truth. Why did she find Wade so intriguing?

  His air of mystery made him seem out of focus. As in one of Elyse’s pictures when someone had moved just before the click of the camera, blurring the image. Wade was a blurred image to Mindy. Who was he really? What did he want from life, from her?

  Suddenly Elyse’s voice brought Mindy back from her thoughts.

  “We’re two of a kind, Mindy. Both swimming against the stream in a world that’s sometimes hostile—sometimes unforgiving,” Elyse added, as if she were remembering some unpleasant or sad experience of the past.

  Elyse never really unburdened herself of whatever might have been the cause of her moment of decision. She seemed to have made her peace with an existence that did not include a man, marriage, or a family. Still, she was usually energetic, enthusiastic, and eager. She obviously loved her work. It filled her life, there were no holes she was looking to close with a love affair.

  That’s why when Wade suddenly came back from one of his unexplained absences, Mindy was almost hesitant to introduce him to Elyse. Was she afraid her perceptive friend would peel away the protective layers that concealed what he was underneath?

  Actually, Mindy had been expecting Elyse when the knock came at her parlor door. When she saw Wade, she stood silent for a moment, unbelieving. He had been away this time nearly a month. Now like magic he had reappeared. She had meant to act calm and composed, but the surprise betrayed her and without thinking, she went into the arms he opened.

  The embrace, the kisses might have gone on longer except for an obviously cleared throat behind them and Elyse’s voice, saying, “Whoops, excuse me. Poor timing. I’ll be going—”

  Mindy pushed herself out of Wade’s arms, flustered. “Oh, Elyse. No, the timing’s just right.” She laughed self-consciously, patting her loosened hair ineffectively. “Please, come in. This is Wade.”

  But after being invited in, Elyse stayed only a few minutes then tactfully left saying she had to get up at dawn to photograph the sunrise.

  When the door closed behind Elyse, Wade drew Mindy into his arms again, asking, as he always did, “Did you miss me?” He buried his face in her hair, his lips moved along her temple, her cheek, then covered her mouth with slow, sweet kisses. Then he was holding her tighter and tighter until she couldn’t think or breathe, only feel the exciting happiness of his being back.

  Chapter 24

  Mindy could not wait for Elyse to get to know Wade. So, after that first rather embarrassing incident, she in
vited her to join them for dinner the following evening. Wade insisted on being their host at the Palace dining room. He was at his charming best, displaying impeccable manners and gave Elyse his undivided attention. He asked her intelligent questions about her work. He offered her his other saddle horse in case she wanted to ride into the desert to take photographs. Mindy, who had been anxious for these two to get along, was pleased that things were going so well.

  Since she had confided so much to Elyse about Wade, Mindy was eager to find out what impression he had made on her friend. The next afternoon after work, she stopped by the cottage. Elyse was ready for her questions and did not hesitate to answer them or pose some of her own.

  “Handsome, debonair, gracious, a type you don’t often see in a rugged frontier town like this. Where’s he from?”

  “I’m really not sure. He doesn’t say much about his background. I have an idea he must be from a wealthy family back east. Maybe the black sheep who came west to prove himself and make a new life,” Mindy suggested, adding, “He does dress well and is perfectly mannered. . . .”

  Elyse half-closed her eyes, as if reminiscing. “Reminds me of a riverboat gambler I met once on a Mississippi paddleboat. Had all the ladies dizzy about him.”

  Mindy somehow missed the cynicism beneath that remark because she had an impulsive idea she wanted to try on Elyse. “Elyse, would you take a photograph of Wade and me? I’d like to have one to send my mother and brother. I’ve written to them about him . . . but as you’re fond of saying, a picture is worth a thousand words.”

  Elyse didn’t answer right away but went on carefully wrapping her glass plate negatives and placing them into the padded packing boxes. After a minute’s pause, she asked warily, “What kind of picture do you have in mind?”

  “Oh, just one of us together. Me standing, him sitting, or the other way around. You know best. You told me you’ve taken dozens of portrait pictures.”

  “Yes, but I don’t anymore. I had my fill of engagement photographs, weddings. I got sick of doing then. They’re all so stiff and posed and the couple usually look either scared to death or sick.”